


The Diaries of Loki

by Mthaelly



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: I'm really lazy at tags, It'll add on with later chapters, M/M, Others - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 10:18:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15794499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mthaelly/pseuds/Mthaelly
Summary: Loki throughout the years basically.From the first Thor, in between, to Infinity war. Yeah, sorta like a diary.I've based this on a short novel called The Diary of Miss Sophie, by Ding Ling. A Chinese writer during the 1900's. It was a really interesting read and I based some of his internal monologues based on the book.(Also this summary is bad, but couldn't do it any better, so sorry. Hope you guys like it :)





	The Diaries of Loki

**Author's Note:**

> Hate festers in Loki's heart at his golden brother. Mabye not just hate.

  
______

_When he'd left I thought about what had just happened._

_I wanted to hit my heart hard, with all my strength._

_Why did I allow a man I despise so much to kiss me?_

_______

Loki was sure, that throughout the years it was detest that festered beneath his smile.

Thor is as he's always been; golden, better, brighter. The one he should follow, the one who should always lead, mighty and _ahead_.  
  
Yet Thor, the elder had not been ahead in all manners. This he knows, he thinks and he planes, every step and every move. He is sharp daggers, the wit, the mindful player. If anything, he is the equal, no less, nay the lesser son.

They do not say it of course, not outwardly. Not in front of the Allfather's second prince.

_What you do not see, does not mean it is not there._

And bitterly, Loki feels and understands this truth deeply.  
He is there, but it is as if he is meant to be. To always be  _there_  , in the corner, in the shadows of long pillars; behind.

And Thor, who is all fire and recklessness leads. As a fire that casts a shadow behind, long, looming and waiting.

_And yet, for all his brother's misgivings, there is no shadow without light. And Loki hides his own misgivings behind a smile, with Thor's arm wrung around him._

And unbeknownst to Loki, the sleek prince, perhaps it was something else than destest that boiled beneath his nagging worries.

______

_Yet I admired him, longed for him, and without him I'd have lost everything that ensured my life's meaning._

______

There is a feast that night.

Ale is poured and the banter of drunken men wring the golden halls.

Loki finds it all distasteful and leaves as quickly as he can, running the hallways back to his own rooms upstairs and away. That had been a few hours ago, and it is well past midnight in the present.

Come the middle of night, there is a boorish knocking on his doors.

With a frown, Loki opens it to a red-faced, intoxicated god of thunder.

" I hope you have not come for more ale Thor."

There is a slurred, drunken reply from the latter who leans on the door.

" I have more right here brother." Thor says giddily, with a clearly blurred grin.

" That, dear brother, is an empty bottle."

" So clever, y-you always are." Thor smirks, his feet wobbling unsteadily. Loki frowns deeper.  
The latter's eyes grow darker and there is a wide idiotic grin plastered on his face.

" Oh no, no."

Thor wobbles his feet dramatically.

" Oh yes, yes."

Thor slumps and Loki on instinct slips his arms around the bulk his brother, to no avail. For the elder is scrunched muscles that are now all loose and Loki the younger sags beneath its weight. They land together in a heap into the floor, a loud thud echoing unceremoniously. Loki, crushed by Thor's staunch weight, hears the roll of the empty bottle across the hall.

" Thor, get up."

Thor has his head rested on Loki's shoulder, cushioned by the leather of his sleeping garments. He giggles, unaware of Loki's irritation. He sighs.

" Brother, you are so soft."

" Norns, Thor! Get up!"

" Always so sly, so thin."

" I swear Thor get up or I'll...!"

______

_I've always thought that if one day our lips were to join close, close together I'd cheerfully let my body go to pieces with the wild joy of my heart._

______

Loki hitches when the rough scrape of Thor's beard slides across the expense of his neck. Suddenly, he feels acutely the closeness of their fumbled, accidental embrace. Lying together at the door of his opened chamber, legs all tangled together.

Loki untangles them, or at least tries to.

" Thor, get up. Now."

Thor's hand gently slides up the curves of his waist as he nuzzles Loki's neck. His hot, enflamed breath creeping up the latter's spine and Loki stumbles as he speaks again.

" Brother, you must ge..."

" Mpmh."

Thor's grip in his waste seems solid now, the scrape of his beard replaced by the teething edge of a subtle bite, dragged down the line of his exposed neck. Loki would deny that he arched a little at the gesture. His hands fumbled Thor's back in denial.  
And in a short while, Thor seems to be back on his senses again, at most partially as he crouches over the leaner form of the younger brother.  
Slotted neatly between Loki's thighs, he bends futher, towering over him.  
Gently, as if skilled, he tips Loki's head to the side with a nudge, the square of his jawline covered by the slightest touch of  lips.

Loki fumbles and graps for escape, but Thor handles his hands then, pressed to the side of his golden face. Their noses an inch away, their faces closer, Loki can smell and feel the slightly heavier exhales of breath tinged with mead across his face.

Those blue eyes gleam brighter somehow in the dimness of night, and Loki's green feels dull and cowered.

" Loki."

He does not answer, something in his stare stoking a forbidden fire in his marrow. Desperately, he tries to avert his eyes. His garments suddenly resting upon his skin too irritatingly soft.  
  


Thor presses them closer, golden hair slipping  behind tucked ears and falling to the sides of his dark hair. He feels the heat of his golden brother's pressed to him, and shudders invontarily.

Their foreheads carreses together, and Loki writhes, incredibly pale in the moonlight.

" You are beautiful Loki,"

Loki squeezes his eyes shut, and moans mutely without sound.

Thor hikes up his shorts, all the while caressing his hand up  the lean thigh. All the while pressing his bulge onto it firmly and Loki arches blindy to that solid nudge, lost in luring sensations and unknown desires. His legs curl around Thor's waist and Thor ruts into the grip.  
Breaths mingling, lost in a newfound arousal.

Brothers.

That final press of lips against his, the scrape of tongue against teeth. His tongue writhes with tangled moans no longer silent. 

Lovers, enraptured in the deep of night.  
  
  


______

_I_ _ndeed, I'd have sacrificed everything just for a caress from that knight of a man and the casual touch of his fingertips anywhere on my body._  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_Whatever was I trying to do?_

  _I can't say._

______

  
_Of course, I've never admitted to myself for a single moment that I had always been in love with him._

Loki wakes earlier the following morning, body lax and limbs sated with softness, his beating heart like a flutter against his chest. Greeted by the first, shy rays of the dawning sun he wakes, still blurred from events of the night past.  
There is a soft snore from his side and  Loki turns, head still splayed on the pillows.

Thor shores as naturally as he sleeps, his mouth slightly agape and cheat rising up an down again with each breath. His golden hair curling at the soft round of his cheeks, mussed and unruly from sleep.  
Loki lays on his side, observing.

And unwittingly smiling.

______

_If I've only been prepared to give him a glare, a dagger to show that rightful disgust, the righteous anger I could have turned him down as I should._

______

Thor looks...golden in the the dawn.

And for a moment, a fleeting moment when he feels his chest bloom with the first  buds of something unbidden, his fingers raise to trace the square of the latter bearded jaws. Stubble pleasantly coarse against his skin.

Tethering on the edge of happiness, sastification in reach of what he had wished, _wanted_.

What he had wanted, without knowing, without thinking.

______

_Scorched by the flames of blissful sin_

______

His fingers still, and his chest blooms with newfound horror; cold and sharp.

His flinches like a wounded beast back, and back. The sheets swirling around his scrabbling form as he grappled with the truth, newfound and yet old.

Disgust creeps up his spine as he shakes, regret;  
guilt.

Pain.

It is the the sharpest knife in his wretched gut.

Loki is a selfish child, and the urge to pain, to stab Thor with daggers tenfold runs through his veins like poison.

He slides down the opposite wall, legs giving out and lands gracelessly, barefooted on the ground.  
Hands wringing his face, to purchase some sense of sense. The cold, biting winds of horror latches onto him and does not let go.

Loki meekly peeps through his hands, obscured by strands of wild hair at Thor.  
  
______

_Utterly,Willingly_

_______  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
